“Do you trust me?” Twilight asked, her voice devoid of desperation, but rather, just as warm and light as a spring breeze; contemplative.

Spike’s emerald optics widened as he studied the countenance of his closest friend. She was leaning back comfortably in her favorite chair; projecting an air of calm and relaxation, as the barest hint of a smile adorned her lavender lips. Her gaze, once focused on the liquid contents of the floral patterned teacup she cradled in her hooves, was now trained directly on him...or rather, through him. 'What kind of game was she playing at?', her companion momentarily contemplated.